


Fortune Favors the Bold

by MaxCassius



Category: RWBY
Genre: M/M, Qrow Branwen Gift Exchange Gift, Wishful Thinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22427236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxCassius/pseuds/MaxCassius
Summary: Ruby sends out a frantic message. General James Ironwood is declaring martial law and abandoning more people than he's saving to Salem and the Grimm. Reeling from this brief message and fearing for his nieces safety, Qrow has to assess his new status as an enemy of the state and face the fear that comes with falling in love with a career soldier.Will Clover choose to follow him on his suicide mission to try and save the world, and turn on everything he knows, or will he choose his duty to the Atlas Military and the General?
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 20
Kudos: 106





	Fortune Favors the Bold

**Author's Note:**

> Gift written for
> 
> The song Rewrite the Stars with Zac Effron and Zendaya had perfect mood lyrics for writing this.

_Damn it._

The desperate panic of Ruby's rushed warning had torn something inside Qrow wide open. Well. A few things, if he were to allow himself to be honest. But for now, the huntsman pushed under the cold, numb fingers of anxiety that clawed at him the second his youngest niece's voice was cut short. Ironwood had jammed the call. What would he be willing to do to those kids? _His_ kids? He pushed away the snarky sense of dread at the fact that Tyrian was still alive, here with them and under arrest rather than a headless body among the invading Grimm in that dark alley down in Mantle. Qrow _knew_ he was too dangerous, too clever, too fanatical to be kept alive, but he'd caved for Clover and his goody-goody insistence that the gleeful serial murderer deserved to suffer for his lifelong list of bloody crimes, rather than meet a swift, peaceful end with a swing of Harbinger's blade. Now, Salem was on her way and damn if they didn't have her little puppet alive, ripe for the retaking. He pushed aside the sense of betrayal, that yet another supposed ally of theirs was throwing away everything they -- Ozpin, and every huntsman and huntress that took an oath to defend the people -- believed in. A feeling made all the more bitter and dangerous to entertain by the way Clover's light green eyes had hardened and expression had closed off at the announcement.

Damn it.

Instead, he focused on the anger and disgust. The hot emotions that seared, white hot in the pit of his stomach. They burned hot and fast and left little room for the other things, like the telltale despair that lurked beyond.

Martial law. Could Clover really do it? Really be General Ironwood's good little soldier and arrest him, _and_ probably Robyn, and put them on the bench next to that bastard Tyrian, and agree to leave the people of Mantle, of the gods-damned _world_ , to die? Thousands, millions, _countless innocents_. Other human beings with no hope at all of defending themselves. How was that a winning plan, much less so much even an acceptable one?

It wasn't. Qrow felt his jaw tighten and his walls begin to close back up behind his eyes and around his heart. How the hell had he ever let them down in the first place? Scarlet eyes flicked over the clean lines of the Ace Ops leader's face, disappointed by the answers he didn't find there. Didn't he know by now that it was an invitation for this kind of hurt?

By the gods, he was _so_ sick of it.

"Well, Clover," Robyn's voice was slow and careful, her expression guarded from beside Qrow as she, too, sized up the soldier across the transport from them. Deciding whether or not they could take him on if they had to. "Sounds like you've got a choice to make. What's it gonna be?"

That question seemed to shock Clover out of the inner turmoil he'd been swallowed by, his eyes briefly widening as he refocused on them.

The look in them froze Qrow in his seat. Pain. And not of the small kind. It was a look he was much more familiar with in his own reflection. It was foreign on Clover and he couldn't ignore the voice that urged him to wipe it away somehow. It was a knife's twist in his heart.

He would do what he had to. _Whatever_ he had to, to make it to Ruby, Yang, and the others. Whether all of him would survive it or not.

"Choice?" Clover's voice was a dry croak at first, and he gave a soft, empty laugh. "There's no _choice_ for me here, Robyn. You know that."

Qrow's hand had already shifted from his silenced Scroll to begin a hesitant creep toward Harbinger when Clover abruptly took out his ever-present earpiece and crushed it under his heel.

"I'm a huntsman before I'm a soldier. And I'm a human and citizen of the kingdom before I'm either of those things. I understand why the General is taking this... desperate, unforgivable path, but it's not one I can walk with him."

His words stayed Qrow's hand. For a second, he was numb, suspended in time as his brain spun, processing that the thing he'd quietly, desperately hoped for but never for a moment believed would come true as it unfolded before him, here, in reality. Even his heart skipped a beat before it thudded hard against his ribs. Without realizing it, he found himself locking eyes with the man across from him, holding that gaze, now so full of determination, only allowing for the haunting shadows of that initial pain as Qrow searched there, frantic to find some kind of confirmation that this was real, resisting the childish urge to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. No lies, or tricks, or traps. When was the last time he'd been this lucky?

Since he'd met Clover Ebi. Since he had spent the last few months and dozens of missions at Ironwood's behest and more and more frequent free evenings falling haphazardly, _recklessly_ in love with him. With his thoughtful insight and kind words that took the time to help him soothe and tend wounds inside of himself he hadn't even known were still bleeding. The patient, steady man with his ever-extended hand reaching out, always ready to help him pick up and put back together the pieces of the man that fate and the world had spent decades knocking down. The man that was always ready to stand protectively between Qrow and the monster of his own self-deprecating thoughts and his broken self worth. His cheesy jokes and his sincerity and good intentions.

_Damn it._

It was impossible for Clover to miss the prolonged stare, but he met the storied huntsman's gaze with a small, amused and hopeful smile, flicking the four-leaf clover pinned to his uniform.

"So. Let's go rescue our kids and see what we can do about all this, huh? We've got people that need saving."

"Clover--" Qrow's first spoken word through this entire fiasco was soft, raw, and cut short when Clover leaned across the aisle, a hand smoothly and steadily curling around the back of Qrow's neck. Warm and worn, calloused from battle and years of training against the soft, untouched skin there, the leather of his glove scratchy. Short nails scraped pleasantly against his scalp as Clover threaded his fingers loosely into the back of Qrow's silvering black hair and eased him forward to meet him in a kiss. It was gentle and even warmer than his hand. Unhurried, steady and sure, like everything about Clover, the man who had become Qrow's rock in this storm. Qrow melted into it, a lone tear falling from his eye as he closed them. It felt like a fifty pound weight fell from his chest with it, his body coming alive under Clover's hand, skin all but crackling with feedback from the spark ignited between them. Embarrassingly unsure of what to do with his hands, he let them hover in the air between them, original purpose long forgotten.

Robyn made a small noise in her throat and politely averted her eyes to the smooth metal wall, lips pursed and chin propped in her hand. Qrow decided she might be his new best friend. Tyrian, hover, groaned dramatically and Clover pulled back, shoving the faunus's shoulder hard. Qrow couldn't repress the vicious satisfaction that rose inside of him when the murdering scumbag that had attacked Ruby and almost killed him slumped, out cold when his head hit the wall. But the grin that curled his lips was sincere, filled with fragile hope wrapped in the package of coy flirtation.

"Well, _damn_ , man."

Clover's smile had a hint of mischief in it as he turned back to Qrow, tipping his head with a minute lift of his brows, his tone as absurdly, infuriatingly, _endearingly_ innocent as could be.

"For good luck."


End file.
